


O Hear the Angel Voices

by sunshinebbaek



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Christmas, Fluff, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 06:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8833345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinebbaek/pseuds/sunshinebbaek
Summary: It had started a few weeks ago, when he had first laid eyes on him. The nameless singer that had one day blown into Sehun’s usual haunt just as quickly and effortlessly as the dried leaves and November gusts swirled through the doorway simply appeared, and sat, and sang.





	1. Spaces

Sehun fidgeted atop his stool in his usual coffee shop, his tall, lean frame teetering precariously back and forth, threatening to overturn the small seat. He rubbed his hands together through his gloves and blew warm breath against his fingers still stinging from the chilly December air, his eyes flicking to the empty, unassuming piano that rested on a stage in the corner of the shop. The tiny café was dark and warm and full of coats and hats and voices, all muted and contained within the sheltering embrace of the shop’s red walls.

Dozens of people waddled past each other to fill every last corner of the place, but Sehun was diligently focused on burning a hole in his coffee mug with his distracted stare. He didn’t even protest when people would bump his shoulders as they brushed past him (he was used to it, quite frankly). Sure, he was here for a delicious latte and holiday spirit, but lately he had been willing himself away from the warmth of his apartment to brave the temperamental winter weather for another reason. His heart thudded in his chest as he licked his lips nervously, shooting an anxious gaze back to the piano across the room.

It had started a few weeks ago, when he had first laid eyes on him. The nameless singer that had one day blown into Sehun’s usual haunt just as quickly and effortlessly as the dried leaves and November gusts swirled through the doorway simply appeared, and sat, and sang. This was not a rare occurrence; Sehun had watched the local entertainment that frequented his favorite café with calm appreciation, their faces and voices and music soon swept away from his mind by the wind that nipped at his face and tousled his hair as he would leave. This was, however, different—two sleepless nights and a little too much soju couldn’t even scratch his memories of the young, red-haired singer with long fingers and a voice that was just raspy enough to send goose bumps racing down his arms. Rather, the alcohol had a habit of elevating them, lifting the images and sounds that would repeat in his head to a level of ethereal euphoria that had Sehun knocked back on his bed, head lolling and bleary eyes trained to the ceiling to watch the boy sing for him and only him.

That had been a rough week. So had the following, considering Sehun almost laughed at how disappointed he was when the singer didn’t show up again on Monday, and almost cried at how ecstatic and nervous he was when the boy sang on Tuesday. It wasn’t like he purposely planned to be at the café when the entertainment was supposed to begin, he had explained to himself multiple times—he just wanted some coffee, and it simply added to the experience to be treated to a beautiful voice coming from a beautiful pair of lips that belonged to a beautiful boy—

Sehun burnt his tongue when he tried to drown that train of thought with an overzealous swig of his latte. Sputtering and turning to grab a napkin, he froze when he realized the boy he was waiting for all night was suddenly on the stage, his cheeks and nose still pink from the cold as he chatted amicably with the owner of the café. Momentarily distracted from his primary mission of grabbing a napkin, Sehun stood half in his stool and half on his feet, watching the soft, low lights play with the red in the boy’s hair and the white in his smile until that said smile turned towards him.

Sehun couldn’t tell from that distance if the boy was actually looking at him or simply facing his direction, but he was suddenly very aware of the latte that was dribbling down his chin like drool (or maybe it was both at that point) and snapped out of his stupor to hastily wipe his mouth on his coat sleeve. Flustered and flushing, Sehun almost dared not check if the boy was still there—almost. His lips still buried against the wool of his jacket, he stole a glance upwards to see the boy turned away and battling with a stubborn mic stand, and he tried to ignore the disappointment that sank in his stomach.

The dramatic conclusion to their electrifying possibility of an interaction was probably for the best, Sehun dryly muttered to himself as he plopped back into his stool. He didn’t want to be remembered as the drooling latte boy by his celebrity crush, not that it would matter anyway considering Sehun hadn’t worked up the courage to do anything but stare at him from the furthest back corners of the café, most likely hidden by a sea of heads.

Perhaps that was why he was more anxious than usual tonight—he had convinced himself when he peeled his eyes open after another restless night of soulful singing and soft red hair that he would do it—he would talk to him. Sehun had spent more time than he was willing to admit in the shower that morning trying to think of something to say that would be cool or memorable, something original that wouldn’t be heard so often that its meaning was dulled from repetition—anything but the dreaded “I’m a really big fan,” or “I love your music.” Granted, it was a little hard to string meaningful thoughts together when his mind was busy being creative in other ways, ways that had Sehun flushed and panting against the shower wall as he pumped his throbbing cock, images of the singer using his pouty lips and low voice to moan his name seared behind his eyelids.

Sehun planted his chin in his palm and abruptly crossed his thin legs when he felt his cock twitch at the memory. He looked at the ceiling distractedly, willing himself to stop being such a creep until a familiar voice sounded across the café. “Hello, everyone….” Sehun’s neck snapped to the boy across the room as his heart jumped in his chest. He felt the corners of his lips pull into a smile on their own accord as the singer bared his dazzling grin to the audience. How could he not feel happy after seeing a smile like that?

The warm buzz of voices that filled the café dimmed to silence as the boy spoke at the microphone. “Tonight’s just like any other night, yeah?” he asked mischievously, quirking his eyebrows at the girls in the audience as he searched for a reaction. Some cheered and some swooned, and Sehun suddenly wished he had the courage to sit even a single table closer. He craned his neck to hear a few high pitched voices call out the singer’s name. “Baekhyun! We love you Baekhyuuun,” Sehun managed to decipher. Their voices seemed so small and muted, so contained—much like his own, actually—but whenever he’d hear Baekhyun speak, it was a sound that cut through the air with an effortless precision and power, a sharpness and clarity that filled Sehun’s chest. It was beautiful, and he couldn’t get enough.

“Ahh, yeah…” Baekhyun continued, his nimble fingers curling and uncurling around the mic in his hands. “It’s just another night, just like yesterday and tomorrow. But now it feels a little different though, right?” Sehun watched carefully as a certain seriousness blanketed Baekhyun’s cheery face, a calm smile tinted with something solemn. “It’s almost Christmas, isn’t it? It’s a time to be happy and feel the warmth of people you love even though it’s cold out…but it’s also a time when you can feel lonely.” Baekhyun’s lidded eyes drifted across the café and eventually fell to his feet. “Out of all the times of the year, I think it’s easy to notice when there’s no one next to you. Even if there will be soon, the empty space can just feel so big sometimes, you know?”

A beat of silence was filled by the thump in Sehun’s chest, tense and heavy. He studied how the boy’s grey sweater draped over his petite frame, how his white jeans clung to his thighs as he moved to sit on the stool atop the stage, and it seemed suddenly so apparent that Baekhyun was surrounded by the very space he was talking about—open and vulnerable in a bubble of distinct otherness that separated him from the collective warmth of darkened silhouettes before him. Sehun was frozen to his spot at the sight, only remembering to blink when Baekhyun spoke again, a smile returning to his face as he looked up. “So tonight I see a lot of people here with people they love, and some by themselves. Tonight, I hope I can fill your empty space with my music.”

Sehun clapped lightly as a low hum of chatter and clinking of dishes and mugs returned to the café, and Baekhyun hopped off the stool and sat at the piano, his long fingers stroking the keys with an ease and grace that made Sehun shiver. He let the soothing falsetto of the boy’s voice carry his shoulders from side to side, head swaying slowly to the warm chords of the piano. He sat listening contently as the customers next to him came and went at a leisurely pace, even when Baekhyun’s songs faded into the background of the café as his main set of songs for the night ended. People eventually stopped sitting next to him when he’d accidentally bump their arm with the sway of his shoulders or nudge their shin while he tapped his foot to the beat—not that he really noticed, though—their presence dripped and rippled like tiny raindrops in the ocean that was his singer.

Sehun was hoping that his crush might be at least marginally less creepy if he actually mustered up the courage to talk to Baekhyun tonight, but when the boy hopped up from the piano and began packing his things, he immediately spun around in his stool and focused on drilling a hole in the espresso machine with his heavy eyes—what time was it, anyway? When did this place close? He chanced a glance from side to side to survey the amount of people left in the café and almost fell off his stool when Baekhyun hopped up on the stool next to him, ordering an iced mocha. A tiny voice in the back of Sehun’s head told him that was weird because it was December and it was very cold, but the incessant pounding of his heart quickly drowned it out.

“Thanks,” Baekhyun said to the barista as Sehun almost flew out of his seat. The boy scrunched up his face and rubbed his throat, taking the drink and sighing, “Ahh, my poor throat is so sore now,” with feigned seriousness.

Sehun swallowed hard as he watched Baekhyun’s slim fingers stroke his neck out of the corner of his eye. He flinched when Baekhyun’s eyes flicked to his own, shooting him a crooked smile before returning to his drink. Sehun suddenly felt like he was on fire despite the chill wind that stung ears as the swinging door of the café traded the leaving customers for frigid December air. His eyes rapidly shot back and forth from the worried knot his fingers were tangling themselves into to Baekhyun, who sat sipping his drink, blissfully unaware of the sweating bundle of nerves next to him. Sehun licked his lips until the process was actually counterintuitive, waiting for the right time to say something—not now, Baekhyun was looking at his phone, not yet, he was studying something in the pastry case, maybe after he was done yawning…

Suddenly Baekhyun was standing up. Sehun’s stomach clenched with Baekhyun’s grip around his bag of singing equipment, an icy spear of panic spiking his chest. He could almost feel his chance being choked from him by fingers of urgency around his throat as he tried to form sounds—something, anything before Baekhyun left—which would mean another night of drinking, another night of vivid dreams that left him drained and wanting in the bleak morning, another morning of frustrated showers.

“Uh—uhm,” Sehun suddenly called out breathlessly as Baekhyun began to button up his coat. The boy turned to him, a relaxed smile spreading his lips as he dropped his bag to the floor. Now that Sehun had his attention (a moment he never actually thought would happen), all of his carefully scripted potential opening lines he spent crafting in the shower vanished like smoke. “Uh…” Baekhyun blinked, his eyebrows raised expectantly. Sehun cracked the most awkward smile he had made in recent memory and stuttered, “I-I uh, I’m a really big fan. I love your music.”

Sehun decided to drown what he had just said with a deliberately large swig of his latte, which he quickly found out was grainy and stone cold. He choked it down with the grace of a pelican as Baekhyun broke into a toothy grin. “Ahh, thank you! I’m so glad you like it.” He blinked curiously, studying Sehun’s face. “You know, you look kinda familiar…” Sehun’s heart stopped. “Have I seen you before?”

Sehun laughed nervously, licking his lips and choosing not to mention the fact that he might have stumbled upon the other cafés that Baekhyun performed other gigs at when he was not at his favorite place. “Um…I don’t think so—”

“Ah! Were you the drooling latte boy from earlier tonight?” Baekhyun interrupted enthusiastically, smirking in a way that twisted Sehun’s stomach.

Sehun wanted to sink into the floor. “Ha, what? No, that was some total ass,” he attempted to reply nonchalantly, running a hand through his hair. He was almost certain that he lost all control of his actions at this point.

Baekhyun laughed, a low and soothing sound. “Ahh, never mind then.” He waved his hand dismissively, and Sehun tried not to follow it with anything more than his eyes. He still couldn’t quite believe this was happening to him, and he was almost positive that he was actually someone else watching this interaction happen from across the room. This might have explained why he thought it was a good idea to reach a little too quickly for Baekhyun’s bag when he saw him begin to look for it, and why their hands were currently touching.

“Oh!” Sehun squeaked as he released the bag, hand still coursing with electricity from Baekhyun’s touch. His milky cheeks flushed pink as he mumbled his apologies, but Baekhyun cut him off.

“Don’t worry about it.” He scrunched his face up again, rubbing his shoulder as he slung his bag over it. “This thing is so damn heavy, so it’s nice to have some help,” he chuckled with a grin, turning on his heel. Sehun put a considerable amount of effort into tearing his eyes away from the boy’s plump thighs and ass, just barely peeking out from the boy’s coat. “Maybe I’ll see you at my next show, huh?”

Sehun perked up at his words while simultaneously laughing bitterly in his mind at the irony of them. “Ah—ah, um…yeah! Yes. Yeah. I’ll be there.” Too desperate. “I’ll try to be there.” Less desperate, but still pathetic.

Baekhyun nodded as he stood at the door of the café propped open with one leg, the light dusting of snow that blew in ruffling his hair. “Awesome. See you later then.”

Baekhyun was gone, but Sehun stayed glued to his seat by a mixture of euphoria and regret and the energy of a thousand synapses firing as they attempted to process what just happened until the owner of the café nudged him lightly. Sehun jumped, staring at him blankly. After a beat of silence, the owner said dryly, “Sorry, we’re closing now.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Sehun replied slowly, rising to his feet. His lanky limbs shook with nervous energy and somehow managed to carry him all the way back to his small apartment. He threw himself onto his bed, nose and ears still red from the cold (as for his cheeks, they may have been flushed for another reason), curling himself into the covers of his own empty space, waiting for Baekhyun’s voice to fill it as he slept.


	2. Lines

“Shit,” Sehun hissed as he whirled around to study the nearest storefront window he could find. He didn’t dare tear his eyes away from—apparently he was focused on staring intently at natural digestive vitamins—to see if Baekhyun had noticed him when he unexpectedly turned around to answer his cell phone. He hoped almost equally as hard that, if Baekhyun had in fact seen him, he didn’t happen to notice him staring down digestive aids meant for people more than twice their age. He really, really did not want to be remembered as the drooling latte boy with stomach problems (although half of that plan had already recently been scrapped), but he almost supposed that would be better than his current wisp of existence in Baekhyun’s life.

Since that night in the café more than a week ago, they hadn’t exchanged more than a cordial “hey” or “how’s it going?” as Baekhyun rushed to set up and hurried just as quickly to blow out the door. Sehun had always felt the warm hum of the subtle, subdued energy that permeated the walls of the café, but Baekhyun scurrying out the door into the darkness left him deflated and empty, his excitement sapped from him as easily as the cozy café air was sucked into the night as the singer left. Sehun wondered about him when he’d catch Baekhyun’s cheery smile as he bolted from the café with an urgency he didn’t notice before—or perhaps it hadn’t manifested yet—the boy whose life seemed so bright and busy and full yet always sang for lonely hearts.

Sehun’s curiosity (he had decided to avoid “concern,” for that implied a level of emotional investment he wasn’t quite ready to admit to himself yet) had gotten the best of him after another night of watching Baekhyun hastily say his goodbyes and fly out the door, which would explain why he was currently praying that the singer didn’t notice he had been tailing him for the past five minutes.

After spending a little too much time absentmindedly following the twists and turns of the detailed digestive tract diagram in the window, Sehun suddenly acknowledged that he could no longer hear Baekhyun’s warm chatter cut through the cold air, and his eyes flicked from bundled head to head in alarm. Being tall had its advantages, one of them being that he could survey the quiet street and navigate the steady stream of coats and hats with ease. Sehun decided this was not of much use when he spotted Baekhyun darting across the street a few yards away from him, and his frozen, lanky legs sprang awkwardly to life as he darted after him.

p>He swore on his life that if Baekhyun turned out to simply be hurrying home or something similar to that effect, he would sprint to his bed and burry himself in his covers and drink until the potentially mortifying experience would be permanently wiped from his memory and perhaps not go outside for a few days. In fact, it would probably be the best for his own mental health to forget about Baekhyun altogether if he happened to unintentionally see something like that—a sense of urgency as he’d fish for his keys in the cold, unlocking his front door, wiping his feet of snow before stepping inside—things that were so normal and natural that they were private, too personal and intimate and close for Sehun to feel comfortable seeing without permission. There was an undeniable space between them, natural but definite, that Sehun was not quite sure he could ever cross.

Sehun started out of his reverie and froze when Baekhyun’s petite figure ducked into a bar. He crossed his arms and licked his lips apprehensively, his curiosity tugging at his feet while his human decency urged him to turn around and forget this ever happened. This was something else private he wasn’t meant to see—unwinding at the end of a long day (although he really didn’t know what exactly he was expecting to see). Sehun rocked on his heels and sucked in a deep breath, the cold air sinking in his lungs as he took a few long strides forward to glance through the window in passing before he’d slink away into the night, head down and shoulders hunched and cheeks burning with embarrassment despite the chill.

The breath that was crushed in Sehun’s chest rushed out of him, inconveniently fogging up the window. He hastily wiped the glass with his sleeve to see Baekhyun setting up his mic stand and cables, yawning obnoxiously as he fiddled with a screw. The corner of Sehun’s mouth twitched in amusement as the boy’s face scrunched up and lips stretched over his teeth, but the moment was quickly forgotten as the question of why Baekhyun was here weighed on his shoulders like a wet blanket, heavy and cold. Sehun glanced at his watch—half past eleven. If Baekhyun’s set was like his gigs at the café, he would be here for around three hours (Sehun chose to ignore the fact that he knew this information and to perhaps judge himself later for it).

Sehun leaned against the window, watching with soft eyes as Baekhyun animatedly spoke through the mic and began singing. The bar was small with low golden lights that hung suspended in the thick, dark air like moons, completely still with a sense of stability and calmness. A different kind of warmth exuded from the deep wood walls and polished leather of the bar, one that aimed to shelter and console from more than the icy tendrils of the frosty winter air and promised to not pass judgment as more and more glasses were emptied that night. There was no piano in the tiny bar, so Baekhyun was simply singing—Sehun could barely distinguish the muted sound through the glass—but as he watched the dark shadows pass over the singer’s face, he couldn’t help but feel that, while Baekhyun was alone on the podium, the bar immersed him in a certain raw closeness that gave him the freedom to move—to close his eyes and twist to the side as he hit a high note, to let his lips curl into a snarl as his voice seeped into the air, to let his fingers ghost along his cheeks, his touch matching the tenderness of his falsetto. Sehun had never seen him like this before, and goose bumps raced along his skin.

He sighed, turning away from the scene and leaning against the glass as he gazed into the quiet street. A light dusting of snow almost floated in the soft beams of the streetlamps, and it was impossibly silent, every sound contained and small as if someone was whispering right into his ear. Every time the door opened with the scraping of snow and clinking of glasses and low voices, Sehun flinched in surprise—he wanted to go in, but something trapped him to his spot against the window looking out into the night. The fear of Baekhyun catching him witnessing something he may not be allowed to see glued his numb toes to the cold ground, yet he hesitated to crawl back to his apartment, cold and lonely and far away from whatever this lame (and slightly creepy, his conscience added) semblance of closeness was. They were only separated by a pane of glass, but Sehun knew that it defined much more than physical distance—as he told himself before, Baekhyun’s life was quick and busy and energetic and full—there was no room for him. And yet he hovered outside, his back pressed against the window, listening to the muffled sound of Baekhyun’s voice for what would perhaps be the last time. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back to rest against the glass, his sense of time suspended with the snow.

Sehun almost launched himself across the street when a firm thud on the glass behind him reverberated in his chest. His heart protesting against the sudden shock, he whirled around to see Baekhyun laughing through the window, his face muted by the frosted glass. Sehun’s breath caught in his lungs as the boy opened the door to the bar, and he wasn’t exactly sure if he was shaking because of the weather or the singer.

Baekhyun draped himself against the doorway, two glasses of deep crimson liquid carefully balanced between his long, white fingers. “So, how long were you planning on staying out there?” He smirked, not a malicious twist of lips but a knowing grin that sent a flush of pink to Sehun’s already rosy cheeks. He supposed his broad silhouette pasted against the windowpane for who knows how long wasn’t exactly subtle.

“Uh…ah, no, it’s not like that…” he started, his mind desperately attempting to fabricate something at least marginally believable to say in response. Maybe something witty, even. His voice was too loud, feigning confidence and nonchalance, the two things Sehun was severely lacking at the moment. “I almost fulfilled my daily quota for staring off into space at odd hours of the night, but someone happened to interrupt me,” he said, his mouth twitching to a grin.

Sehun felt the urge to jump into the nearest garbage bin as he mentally reviewed what he just said, but Baekhyun was laughing. “Ah, I had no idea you were such a busy guy.” He shook his head, accidentally staining the snow with dark spatters of maroon when some of the liquid sloshed from his glasses. “Ooh. Shit. Ah…” He looked up again, his eyebrows raising and pouty lips looking increasingly more inviting as they moved. “Why don’t you warm up for a bit? I’m on break.”

Sehun’s mind was firing in a million different directions at once despite the fact that he stood completely still, lips parted and wide-eyed. “You…you are old enough, right?” Baekhyun questioned.

“YEAH. Yeah, uh, yeah…I am,” Sehun stuttered, his voice still a bit too loud and overly reassuring. He wasn’t quite sure of Baekhyun’s age considering the boy’s petite frame, and now the thought that lingered in the back of his head was whisked to the forefront of his tongue, and he was just about to ask when Baekhyun’s throaty chuckle dismantled his train of thought.

“Well, come on then,” he said, handing him a glass of what appeared to be wine.

Sehun willed his legs to move in a way that didn’t resemble a half-frozen giraffe as he entered the bar. His eyes anxiously flicked from table to table—unlike the venue at his café, everyone here was by themselves. Sehun pursed his lips in contemplation as the images of Baekhyun crooning through the glass seeped into the corners of his mind.

Sehun grinned to himself as he watched Baekhyun’s legs idly swing back and forth, his toes grazing the ground as they sat at the bar. It was endearing, to say the least, and more graceful than the way his lanky limbs were still wracked by shivers as he began to warm up. He took a sip of his drink, thankful for the satisfying burn of the alcohol to warm his throat. It was pleasantly sweet to his surprise, and Baekhyun grinned as he took another sip. “You like it?”

Sehun said his thanks and nodded. “Yeah, I love sweet things…”

“I know,” Baekhyun casually interjected. “You always put a ton of sugar in your drinks at the café.” The realization that Baekhyun had seen him enough times at the café to know this coupled with a coy sidelong glance made Sehun almost choke on his wine. “That’s why I thought bokbunjaju would be good, yeah?” A sly undertone permeated his words that Sehun detected but wasn’t exactly sure about what it was implying.

He didn’t know whether it was a newfound courage or frazzled nerves that made him attempt to counter in a similar tone, “So I guess that means you like to watch me at the café then, huh?”

Baekhyun’s lips cracked into a half-smile, his eyes dark and warm with the low lights of the bar. “You’re one to talk,” he replied just as quickly, and Sehun felt his heart thud against his ribs. “It’s hard not to pay attention when you’re always there.”

“Not always…” Sehun huffed.

Baekhyun nodded in agreement as he watched the way Sehun’s eyebrows scrunched up when he was flustered and how his round bottom lip pouted invitingly. “True, it’s pretty obvious you’re not there when I don’t see your puffy white hair and blank face sticking up from the rest of the crowd in the back corner.”

Sehun’s cheeks bloomed bright red as Baekhyun grinned, casually sipping his drink and allowing what he had just said to process in Sehun’s mind. He chose to ignore validating Baekhyun’s astute observation skills (or perhaps Sehun’s lack of inconspicuousness). “I don’t have a blank face,” he sniffed. “I’m just a person who can fully appreciate good music.”

This time, it was Baekhyun who blinked in surprise. His mouth parted in silence, and Sehun’s lips twitched in the smallest motion of self-satisfaction. “You think it’s good?” he asked quietly, suddenly seeming like a little kid.

Sehun resisted the urge to scoop him up and squeeze him and kiss him and yell about how amazingly talented he was at him, settling simply for an innocent, “Do you really think I’d be there all the time if I thought you sucked?”

Sehun’s upper hand was short-lived. Baekhyun quickly regained composure, teasingly pursing his lips and blinking through his lashes. “Depends how much you like me.”

Sehun’s heart was racing, drowning out any superfluous sounds that came from across the room or off to the side—unimportant places, places that weren’t the decreasing distance between their lips or the spot where their knees brushed against each other or the bright flush of Baekhyun’s cheeks that the alcohol colored on his face. For weeks there had been dozens of people and chairs and voices between them, but suddenly all that remained was the space filled with the scent of wine and Sehun’s heartbeat and their low voices intertwining. If he didn’t say something again soon, he might burst. “SO why are you here, anyway?” Sehun blurted. “I mean…like…don’t you play enough during the day? You don’t need to do this too, do you?”

Baekhyun was initially surprised at the bluntness of Sehun’s question, but he simply laughed, “Why not? I love singing, it’s fun—”

“Well yeah, but…” Sehun hesitated and Baekhyun waited. “I don’t know, you look different here.”

Baekhyun’s energetic grin fell to a soft, contemplative half-smile. His eyes fell to his glass, and his fingers slid absentmindedly over the rim. “Hmmm…you think so?” Sehun’s jaw was clenched to the point where he thought his teeth would break, suddenly stricken with the fear that he may have overstepped his boundaries—even as confusing as they were that night. Baekhyun straightened up then, clapping Sehun on the back and teasingly rubbing his shoulder. “I’ll tell you later,” he said simply.

Sehun tried not to jolt at the unexpected touch and tried equally as hard not to moan as Baekhyun’s nimble fingers worked at his tense shoulder. “Later?” he breathed, not entirely successful at his mission.

Baekhyun chuckled, hopping to his feet. “Yeah, because I have to finish my set now.” Sehun jumped up, forgetting that Baekhyun was simply on a break.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, sorry about that, I totally forgot…”

Baekhyun peered up at him intently, and Sehun’s words eventually trailed off to silence as he gazed down at him. “Don’t worry about it,” he said playfully, and Sehun cherished the new angle that he got to see Baekhyun’s pouty lips move. The singer fished around in the pocket of his jeans and handed Sehun a card, suddenly becoming embarrassed again. “It’s uh…if you wanna talk about ‘later,’ you know, later.” He watched Sehun’s throat bob up and down, struggling to form words. “Something tells me you would, right? Well, I hope so. I mean. Maybe. I don’t know.” He shoved a hand through his hair and glanced to the side, fidgeting in his spot.

Sehun couldn’t help but break into a huge grin at the sight of Baekhyun’s usual charisma impeded by alcohol just enough to make him stumble over his words (he also decided to ignore the thought that he most likely sounded like this to Baekhyun normally). “Of course,” he said. Too desperate? “I mean, yeah, ha, you know, sounds good. I’ll see you later, then.”

Baekhyun grinned, his white teeth a stark contrast to his cheeks flushed with red from their drinks. It was cute, and Sehun thought he might just reach out and take him into his arms, but he found himself quickly waving goodbye and bolting for the door. The part of his brain that wasn’t completely buzzed with sweet wine and words and accidental touches managed to register that Baekhyun had called out, “Okay, bye!” after him, but he was currently more focused on the immediate task of not breaking his face with the ecstatic smile that pulled at his lips. The walk home seemed like he was floating, the tiny business card clutched in his hands threatening to completely sweep him off his feet.


	3. Insecurities

Sehun nervously tugged at his belt again, his fingers playing with it out of habit as his tongue darted between his lips. He had lost count of how many times he’d examined himself in the mirror before leaving that afternoon, so he reasoned that he should probably do it just one more time just to make sure he looked at least marginally decent before Baekhyun inevitably opened the door of his apartment. His eyes flicked back and forth from his clothes to the door too quickly to actually get a good glimpse of either, but he assured himself that it was probably fine considering it was too late to retreat back to his own apartment and tear his closet apart again.

The initial dejection that sank in Sehun’s stomach like a rock when Baekhyun didn’t answer his first call a few days ago while he was wrapped in his bedcovers clawed at his gut as he waited on Baekhyun’s doorstep now. The silence had pressed against his chest, a weight of doubt and embarrassment and insecurity that reduced Baekhyun’s business card to an insignificant sheet of paper and questioned if their time in the bar had ever even happened until Sehun had tried his best to casually answer his cell when Baekhyun’s name lit the screen through the darkness a few hours later. When he had heard the singer’s voice frantically apologizing and reassuring him that he hadn’t had time to check his phone during gigs for the day, Sehun’s release of clenched lungs and sigh of relief washed over the receiver in waves of static that had both of them giggling.

Sehun was always ready to talk for hours (or perhaps forever, but he decided that a definite time frame seemed slightly less creepy), but he supposed he should be grateful for the scattered calls that Baekhyun did have time for—the bright bursts of concentrated contact that reverberated in Sehun’s mind long after they’d ended. He tried to focus on these instead of their stumbling attempts at setting a time to meet up and the subsequent cancellations that followed as hard as he tried to remind himself that he knew Baekhyun had a busy life and that it had nothing to do with him.

Sehun inhaled sharply as he heard the clicking and turning of locks, and suddenly Baekhyun was peeking his head through the doorway—in sweats and glasses, hair stuffed under a red snapback and toothbrush shoved in his mouth. Both of them blinked in surprise, neither of their throats working properly to speak as their eyes scanned each other’s faces and outfits. Baekhyun’s sharp voice cut through the thick silence (although slightly muted by the fluff of toothpaste), soft lips opening and closing around his toothbrush briefly before asking, “Hey…Sehun-ah, what are you doing here? Did you get my text?”

Sehun’s trembling fingers fumbled for his phone as his heart sank. “Uh…no…are you busy?” he mumbled, wishing he could melt into the snow. The familiar words sank in his stomach like rocks as he read them. Hey, I just got called for another gig today…I’m really REALLY sorry I know I keep doing this and I promise I’ll make it up to you….Sehun didn’t bother reading the rest, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He pursed his lips and blinked at the ground, waiting for Baekhyun’s inevitable reply.

“Yeah…I’m getting ready to leave now—”

“I can see that,” Sehun cut him off dryly. “It’s okay. I’ll just go.” He spun around almost too quickly, his heels sliding on the icy sidewalk as he desperately longed to bury himself in his sheets and pretend this moment never happened.

Long fingers curled around the crook of his elbow to stop him. “Wait.” The plea in Baekhyun’s voice froze his legs despite his best efforts to run back to his apartment. He sighed and turned and almost sighed again—a sleepy and relaxed Baekhyun with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth was hard to resist. He wanted to be like the soft cotton of his hoodie’s sleeves and wrap him up in his arms, to be the thing Baekhyun would long for to make him warm and comfortable and simply at peace—but he simply waited for the singer to continue.

Now that Baekhyun had his attention, his eyes darted nervously from his hand latched onto Sehun’s sleeve and the ground as he searched for the right words to say. His speech was quick and rambling. “I only have one show today. It won’t be long I swear, and we can hang out after…I mean, you could come with too if you want…er, I’d like it if you did, you haven’t been to my shows in a few days and I don’t know I guess you could say that—”

The tension in Sehun’s face melted away as he watched Baekhyun stumble from thought to thought, and he couldn’t help but laugh casually as his eyebrows shot up at Baekhyun’s last words. “Whoa, hold on, are you saying you missed me? I thought you said it was creepy how I’d always stare at you from the same spot in the back of the café without blinking—”

Baekhyun released his arm and settled for nudging him in the side, and Sehun let out a squeak that made him laugh softly (which resulted in a thin stream of toothpaste dribbling from his mouth). “Ah. Shit.” He wiped his mouth hastily with his sleeve, his other hand tangling his fingers with Sehun’s as he pulled him inside. “Here, come in. I promise it won’t take that long and then I’m all yours. Please?” He turned and hit Sehun with his best pout, a deadly weapon that Sehun was helpless against.

His head still reeling from the feeling of Baekhyun’s fingers through his gloved hand, Sehun sighed. “ _Fine_ ,” he huffed despite the smile on his face.

Baekhyun grinned and lead him inside. Sehun moved with the awkwardness that subsequently came along with entering an unfamiliar place, not knowing where to step to avoid the token squeaky floorboard or how to navigate through the furniture while gazing at the walls. It was plain, similar to Sehun’s in that matter—only it was a mess. He stood in the center of the small room with a lost expression as Baekhyun called from the bathroom, “Sorry it looks like shit in here, I barely have anyone over so I figure it doesn’t really matter.”

This caught Sehun off-guard. He had expected Baekhyun to be the kind that was always “on,” always juggling friends and parties and energy. He decided not to mention this observation. “Oh, no, it’s okay…” Sehun replied instead, cursing silently as he tripped over a bag of mic cords. When he looked up again, Baekhyun was hovering under his nose with a cup of coffee held out to him, the sweet smell and heat tickling his nose.

“Here. It’s so cold out today I feel bad you walked all the way here,” the singer said, followed quickly by a knowing grin and a look that elicited a particularly loud thump from Sehun’s chest as he felt his eyes gliding over his tight grey sweater and dark jeans. “You look cute today.”

Sehun’s cheeks flushed as Baekhyun danced away into his room to change, and he tugged at his belt again out of habit (it definitely had nothing to do with the fact that his skinny jeans had begun to feel a little tight in that moment). He took a particularly large gulp of his coffee in an attempt to drown out his peaking curiosity regarding Baekhyun changing in his room, how his slim body would look slipping out of his hoodie and how his jeans would strain against his thighs as his long fingers tugged at them…

The rather drafty apartment suddenly blazed with a heat that rivaled an oven as Sehun sucked down the rest of his coffee. Needless to say, he was grateful when Baekhyun reentered the room with his mic bag slung over his shoulder, fully dressed aside from his coat half buttoned, looking slightly flustered as he attempted to bend down to reach his other bag. In desperate need of a distraction, Sehun jumped to pick it up. “Ah, don’t worry, I got it.”

“Thanks.” The relief in Baekhyun’s voice pulled Sehun’s lips into a tiny smile, but the teasing hand that was suddenly on his ass made him bolt upright and yelp in surprise. Baekhyun laughed, attempting to fix his hair that had been trapped under his hat as they ran out the door. “What? I said you looked cute.”

The cold air burned against Sehun’s flaming cheeks, a sweet relief from the suffocating (and frustrating) heat of Baekhyun’s cramped apartment. “Whatever…” He caught Baekhyun still distractedly attempting to comb through his hair—almost a lost cause after a night of what Sehun presumed to be motionless sleep—and sighed, shaking his head. “Yah, just let me do it.” Baekhyun hummed happily under Sehun’s touch as the taller boy’s fingers worked through his hair. Sehun felt that he could get used to hearing that sound, just as lovely and musical as when he’d sing in front of dozens of people, yet small and quiet and close, only for him.

Sehun had insisted on helping Baekhyun set up, refusing to let him assume his usual routine of scurrying around the café in a flurry of cords and speakers, and Baekhyun had insisted that Sehun sit right in front of the stage when he caught him making a beeline for his usual stool in the back. Despite the different spot, Sehun still sat enthralled as Baekhyun performed, finding new fascination with the cut of his jawline as the lights struck sharp lines of white against the dark walls of the café and the way his veins crept up his neck as he hit the high notes that made Sehun shiver. He flushed when Baekhyun would look at him as he sang, so much different than the sleepy boy who had blearily stared at him through the doorway this morning. He supposed that this was not a bad first date after all—he eventually forgot that other people were even in the café with them, finally feeling the impenetrable barrier between them dissolve as effortlessly as his warm breath had curled and disappeared before him in the chilly December air. Baekhyun had let him into his life—a space that could be considered small, but Sehun treasured it nonetheless.

However, as the minutes turned to hours and the sparse scattering of customers turned into a sea of people, Sehun felt cramped and cornered. He fidgeted in his seat, anxiously checking his phone again—5 pm. The daylight that had followed them in the café a few hours ago gave way to the early winter darkness, and the sun sank in the sky with Sehun’s stomach. The first time the manager had asked Baekhyun to stay for the unexpected amount of customers that were coming in, Sehun had understood. He had smiled at Baekhyun’s distressed and apologetic look and dismissed his concerns with reassuring words—he knew this was his job, and being successful and wanted was a good thing. But every time he spotted that damn manager weaving his way through the crowd to inevitably ask Baekhyun to stay longer still, Sehun struggled to squelch the aggravation that was festering in the pit of his stomach as much as he struggled to return Baekhyun’s apologies with anything but snide remarks.

A small voice in the back of Sehun’s mind argued that he was being immature, but it was much easier to focus on the familiar feeling of being unimportant, something else to simply be worked into Baekhyun’s schedule, an obligation to be assuaged if he threatened to take up too much time. His face ached from the twists his lips distorted his mouth into, and his leg moved like a creaky hinge as he incessantly jiggled his foot up and down against the floor. He could feel Baekhyun’s eyes on him, which only prompted him to glare at the floor with a renewed intensity every time he assumed the singer was looking at him.

Everyone else, however, seemed to be having the time of their life—for whatever reason the café was ridiculously crowded that night, and the cheers were loud and grating against Sehun’s ears. He perked up when he heard Baekhyun beginning to say his goodbyes, but an angry hot breath escaped through his nose when he saw the singer hesitate as the crowd urged him for an encore. Baekhyun scratched his head, smiling and laughing as he baited them with questions. “Ah, you really want more, huh?” Applause. “I mean…if you’re sure…” Even more applause.

Sehun stood up abruptly, making a point of keeping his eyes glued to his feet as he stalked through the crowd out the door. The cold air struck his face like a slap—a chastising blow that berated him for ever thinking that he could find a place in Baekhyun’s life, for letting a silly crush go this far when it was obvious the singer didn’t truly care about him. His chest was tight and his breath rushed out through his nose in restrained huffs, his eyes squeezed shut only to taunt him with images of sitting in Baekhyun’s apartment sipping coffee.

Sehun felt too hot, too wound up to go home—too big for the confined space of his apartment—so he settled for sitting at a random bench a block or two away from the café, his long limbs sprawling across the cold metal bars and his head tilted back at the sky. It was silent save for his angry sighs and pounding heart until his phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it, remaining completely still despite the vibrating sensation against his thigh. It was quiet for a few moments, but Sehun sighed and whipped it out when it buzzed again, growling into the receiver when he saw Baekhyun’s name lit up in the night. “What.”

Baekhyun sounded breathless through the speaker. “I’m so sorry, where are you?”

Sehun snorted. “Uhuh. Like you always are.”

Baekhyun’s voice cracked. “Please, just tell me where you are.”

“Sorry, I gotta go now.” Sehun muttered, shoving his phone back into his pocket without waiting for Baekhyun’s reply. He buried his hands in his coat, sighing and closing his eyes, his lips pressed into a hard line.

The part of his mind that wasn’t focused on stewing in the emotional train wreck that was unfolding in his stomach registered the sound of frantic, light footsteps and panting and a familiar voice. “You hung up on me.”

Sehun started and turned to see Baekhyun standing before him, coat haphazardly buttoned in the wrong order and shoulders heaving and cheeks flushed red. His hard eyes softened at the sight, but he still struggled to unclench his jaw tight with frustration. He pursed his lips and looked away. “Where’s your mic stuff?” he asked at the ground.

“I left it there. I couldn’t run as fast with a subwoofer chained to me, you know,” Baekhyun laughed halfheartedly.

The corner of Sehun’s mouth twitched in amusement buried under his aggravation. Still staring at the ground, he said tonelessly, “So you only run after me when I run away.”

The silence that followed wrenched Sehun’s neck around to see Baekhyun struggling to form words, his eyes desperately blinking and scanning the ground as his lips worked around silent shapes. “No—it’s not…I don’t know. I just…” He looked up at Sehun for a cue of some sort, but his face remained expressionless. “I love singing. Well, you knew that…” He sighed, shaking his head and clenching and unclenching his hands. “But it’s not just that. I feel like I have to sing. I’ll go crazy if I don’t.”

“Okay. You really like singing. I get it.” Sehun stood up, but Baekhyun stepped in front of him, looking up to meet the taller’s guarded eyes with his own desperate ones.

Baekhyun shook his head, fingers flying past his face in an attempt to animate his point. “No no no, I mean like…I’ll go crazy in a bad way. I know you noticed how I’ve been singing more recently, longer and later. Right?” Sehun hesitated before giving him the benefit of a nod. He knew he could really be a little shit when he wanted to be, but he needed to see this from Baekhyun, the boy that was energetic and bright and passionate yet guarded and running from place to place. “Well…it’s because I feel lonely.” He sucked in a breath of regret through his teeth. “God, that sounded cheesy…but you saw my apartment, right? It’s small, cold, empty. There’s no one there. I can’t take it. The silence is suffocating and it just drives me nuts…especially around this time of year…”

Sehun watched the singer unfold before him, his heart twisting as Baekhyun’s voice would crack and squeak as he choked out his words while looking to the side, his pouty lips quivering. It hit him that he really didn’t know anything about Baekhyun aside from what he picked up at the bar—charming, funny, talented—surface details that carefully hid what the boy was spilling to him now, his words coming hard and fast and unfiltered. “I just figure…I’ll make it through the night if it’s as short as possible, if I’m so busy that I won’t notice there’s no one there…”

Baekhyun let out a surprised yelp as he felt Sehun’s arms grab his back and pull him in, his words silenced by the soft press of the boy’s lips against his own. A muffled cry of shock fought through their lips, and Sehun watched as Baekhyun’s eyes searched his in confusion. Sehun’s lips quirked into the tiniest smile, and he said softly, “You have me, don’t you?”

Baekhyun’s shoulders trembled in a mixture of unexpected relief as he carefully rested his cheek against Sehun’s shoulder. “Well, I almost didn’t back there…” he laughed dryly.

Sehun dipped his head and pressed his lips against Baekhyun’s, taking in the scent of his shampoo, his heart hammering against them. “Yeah, that’s because you forget you do,” he mumbled through vanilla and red hair. “If you just let me in, you don’t have to work yourself like that.”

Baekhyun sighed a warm patch into Sehun’s coat. “I know…I’m sorry. I’ve been doing this for so long it just became a habit…I’m just weird,” he laughed. “I have a lot of friends—you get to know a lot of people when you do what I do—but I don’t know. They all seem…the same. Into the local entertainment scene in that way you know they’re not really into it, you know what I mean? Not really interested in knowing anything about each other aside from everyone’s current projects and work—what you’re worth, basically. It’s fun, don’t get me wrong, I like them a lot…but it gets tiring.” He looked up then, smirking. “That’s why when I first saw you staring at me with a dead fish face from the very back of the café completely motionless—I knew you were different. That I moved you in a way they didn’t let me see, that your reaction was unfiltered and real. And I liked that.”

Sehun had smacked Baekhyun’s shoulder playfully at his jibe, laughing as the boy clung dramatically to his arm. They were walking now, neither of them with a destination in mind, and Sehun had smiled and blushed as Baekhyun finished talking. “It’s okay,” he said, dismissively waving a hand in the air. “I don’t really have a life either, I just moved here to go to school so I don’t really know anyone yet. Just me and my apartment.”

Baekhyun laughed beside him, weaving his arm through Sehun’s as their fingers threaded together. “Yah, I never said I didn’t have a life. But at least you don’t go wrecking yours ‘cause you’re so pathetic you can’t stand to sleep by yourself at night. That doesn’t even make sense—I mean, I make myself so busy that I can’t have any friends because I’m sad I don’t have any. What the hell.” They both burst out laughing, bumping their shoulders together playfully as they walked slowly in the soft snow and silence around them. With a quick glance to Sehun, Baekhyun nonchalantly ran his hand along the snow coating a bench as they passed. “Good thing I have you to bother now, right?” he teased, whipping the snow at Sehun’s face.

Sehun cried out at the unexpected assault, quickly ducking down to scoop up his own ammunition. “Just don’t forget next time, okay? God,” he shot back as his snowball smacked the back of Baekhyun’s neck with a soft puff.

Baekhyun’s hands flew up to his neck as his body (and vocal octaves) contorted in a series of strange shapes while the snow melted down his back. He fired another handful of snow that happened to explode in Sehun’s face, and when the boy had finally wiped it all from his eyes, he was met with Baekhyun’s warm lips pressed against his. He cupped the singers face with his (slightly wet) gloved hands, and they stayed frozen under the soft glow of the streetlamp for a few moments until the buzzing of a phone jarred them both from their reverie.

Baekhyun fumbled for his cell, answering it hesitantly after a nod from Sehun. He put a hand over the receiver, saying in a quiet voice, “It’s the manager of the café. They’re closing now so he wants me to go get my stuff…” His words seemed to be stepping on glass, carefully and slowly annunciated with an undertone of dread.

Sehun drew him into his chest with one arm, breathing softly, “It’s fine, go.” His lips settled around Baekhyun’s ear, nibbling at it with a wetness and warmth that made the singer sigh . “After all, we finally had our first date, right?”

Baekhyun smiled, pressing an open-mouthed kiss into Sehun’s neck. “Yes we did, after I stopped being an idiot.”

Sehun chuckled, and they quickly discussed when they’d call each other and when they’d see each other next and other sweet and ridiculous words that ended with breathless kisses and hurried steps away in opposite directions. As Sehun curled up in his covers, the silence of the late night hours pulled and nourished his lingering seedlings of doubt and worry—the possibility of their time spent together today simply being another concentrated burst of contact before another inevitable draught seemed very plausible in the loneliness of the darkness—but he ultimately fell asleep with the memory of Baekhyun’s chest rising and falling against his replaying in his head.


	4. Opportunities

“Ah…actually…” Baekhyun struggled to cradle his phone between his shoulder and chin as he examined a pair of headphones. After eyeing the price, he physically recoiled and gently set them back on the shelf, saying, “I’m sorry, I’m not doing any Christmas Eve shows this year—” An angry burst of static from the receiver cut him off as he returned to the crowded mall, prompting him to plant a finger in his ear to try to hear the caller. “I know, I know, I’m really sorry…any other time, please don’t hesitate to call me…” he continued softly in a low voice, drenching it with honey in an attempt to placate whoever was in charge of booking entertainment at perhaps the fourth place that had called him this morning. He had the tone perfected by now as it neared noon, considering the greater part of the morning was spent answering calls that ranged from simple curiosity to frantic desperation—regardless of their requests, he had turned them all down.

Baekhyun continued to string apologies together until the voice on the other end gave up with a crisp “click,” and he rolled his eyes and stuffed his phone into his pocket. Gazing distractedly from sign to sign as he strode quickly through the mall, Baekhyun couldn’t help but hear Sehun’s soft voice in his ear despite the energetic holiday clamor echoing endlessly up into the high white ceilings, and it was suddenly cold and quiet and still around him. “So you only run after me when I run away.” The back of Sehun’s head staring at the ground flashed behind Baekhyun’s eyelids when he tried to drown out those words that rang louder in his mind than the bright chaos of the entire mall. “Just don’t forget next time, okay?”

He sucked in a deep breath through his nose as he ducked into a random store. Those words seared his stomach like a hot brand even though he knew their date had ended on a good note—the memory of plump lips and wet heat teasing his ear momentarily served to be very distracting—but the unavoidable urge to dwell on the negative wouldn’t let him forget how Sehun looked when he’d run out the door, how his quirky smile that tugged at Baekhyun’s heart had seem so far gone, buried under a layer of coldness and frustration. He swore to himself that there’d be no more running, no more flitting from one thing to another, so focused on never landing yet constantly driving himself into the ground—whether it be from show to show or his own weird life problems or Sehun—it was time to come down.

This was why he let his phone continue to ring in his coat after seeing another unknown number flash on the screen, and why he was instead currently trying to buy Sehun a Christmas present. It turned out to be a more daunting task than he had assumed it would be from his groggy, 3am contemplations about it the other night, and as he absentmindedly turned over a simple mug in his slim fingers, it hit him that he barely knew anything about Sehun aside from the fact that he was a student from out of town. He pinched the bridge of his nose when he realized he didn’t even ask what Sehun’s major was or where he was going to school—they could be going to the same university and not even know it—and sighed, wondering why Sehun even liked him in the first place. The empty mug swallowed his gaze, glazed over with questions and doubts. Sehun had been the beacon that drew him in through the dark sea of the crowd when they met, but what could he do for him? So far he had succeeded in canceling a lot of dates and failing to ask the simplest but nevertheless important life questions like “what’s your major?”

The minimalistic curves and lines of the plain mug Baekhyun was still staring into contrasted with the turmoil of words and blurred memories and colors his mind twisted itself into, and he blinked, remembering suddenly and clearly that Sehun always had a latte in hand. He smiled despite himself as he remembered the foam running down the boy’s chin when they had happened to look at each other that one night, finally looking up in satisfaction. He’d almost lost Sehun once when there’d barely been anything to lose, and that would be the last time.

Baekhyun froze when his eyes fell on a familiar shock of white hair bobbing quickly towards him above the crowd, and his neck snapped back to the mug as he almost dropped it. “Shit,” he hissed, the panic gripping his chest most likely disproportionate to the actual situation at hand. Not accounting for the fact that Sehun probably goes to the most popular café in the most popular mall in town, Baekhyun frantically darted to the other exit, almost committing a minor theft as he quickly set the mug down on a table at the last minute.

Heart racing as he buried himself in the crowd of shoppers, Baekhyun considered the fact that Sehun probably wouldn’t have given a second thought about him being in the most popular café in the most popular mall in town, and that he had perhaps overreacted. He also couldn’t help but wonder if Sehun was possibly shopping for him, but he quickly pursed his lips and shook his head as he felt his cheeks begin to flush. Making a mental note to venture back to pick up the mug, he wandered into a clothing store for the primary purpose of ensuring he wouldn’t be found anytime soon.

It was small and quiet, the scent of freshly pressed leather and nondescript cologne permeating the air. Baekhyun perused the selection, the bottles glittering back at him as he wondered what kind Sehun would like (and perhaps what kind he would like on him). Grimacing as the gaudy stench of one abused his nose, he figured Sehun would like something simple and understated as he fingered another bottle, inhaling gingerly. Images of Sehun’s long torso stretching to get dressed as the morning sun painted it white flooded his mind as the scent crept up his nose, and his breath hitched in his throat rather embarrassingly as his eyes snapped open in surprise. Sucking on the inside of his cheek while he glanced around to see if anyone had been unfortunate enough to witness him fantasizing, Baekhyun made a mental note to purchase that particular bottle after a paycheck when he hissed at the price, walking over to the clothing section of the store.

His fingers ghosted over the soft fabrics of the flannels and sweaters, warm and inviting. He tried not to think about how they’d look on Sehun—or how he’d look putting them on—and instead busied himself with attempting to pick one he might like. Baekhyun held up a charcoal sweater, imagining it clinging to Sehun’s slim waist and broad shoulders as he worried his bottom lip. It then occurred to him that he had no idea what size would be right as he glanced down at his petite frame and scrunched up his face in annoyance. He dug through the sweaters and pressed a large to his shoulders in an attempt to establish some sort of frame of reference, clicking his tongue and shimmying out of his coat when he still wasn’t satisfied. As his arms tangled themselves in the sleeves of his hoodie, he scrambled to pull the sweater over his head and catch his snapback as his hand accidentally launched it into the air, and it was at the moment when his phone rang that he figured this was probably not the best idea.

Baekhyun fumbled for his phone as the sweater hung awkwardly from his body like a dress, the sleeves floppy and the bottom resting halfway down his thighs, sighing exasperatedly when his head surfaced for air through the top. Another unknown number glared at him through the screen, and something snapped in him that released the tension and aggravation and worry that had been coiling and twisting and festering inside him all morning into the receiver. “Hello?”

The air hissed through his teeth as the voice on the other end (who happened to not be in the best mood at the moment, either) offered him a gig at a shitty bar with a shitty pay and Baekhyun couldn’t help but reply tersely, “Sorry, I can’t. I’m all booked.” He began pacing up and down the aisle when the caller wasn’t fooled, his breaths coming short and fast from his clenched chest. “Yah, I’m real sorry but I’m not doing it…” His free hand flew in front of him as his voice rose in frustration, the sleeve of his sweater flapping wildly and most likely not very threateningly. “Yeah okay, well I don’t really care, actually, what you’re gonna do about it. You can do whatever the hell you want, actually, ‘cause that’s what I’m gonna do, okay?” he spat into the phone, holding it up a few inches away from his face as he stalked up and down the aisle.

The part of Baekhyun that wasn’t screaming into the receiver begged him to stop and think about his career, but a rage that had been simmering under his skin could only think of Christmas Eve and Sehun, an anger that had been building each time his exhausted body collapsed on top of his cold mattress after performing all day, one that had chipped away at his sanity with every glass of lemon and honey water he’d choke down to soothe his throat. “Yeah that’s right, I’m not doing any shows that night,” Baekhyun snapped, laughing bitterly. “What else do I have to do? I’m gonna be spending that time with someone I happen to like a lot, okay? Just like every other fucking person on the planet wants to do—” At this point he had completely forgotten that he was out in a public place, yelling into the phone, “But I haven’t been able to do because of this bullshit, okay?!”

Silence met the hot breaths hissing through his nose. “Hello? Fucking hell…” Baekhyun muttered under his breath as he hung up and whirled around, sleeves flying everywhere. Sehun stood before him, lips parted and wide-eyed in that sleepy way of his, and Baekhyun seemed to deflate as the reality of where he was and the fact that Sehun had seen him stomping around the store screaming into the phone in a giant sweater punctured his anger. His face flushed bright pink as he attempted to save whatever scraps of dignity he had left, casually adjusting his hair under his hat. “Aha, hey Sehuh-ah, you didn’t happen to hear all that, did you? I—”

“I did,” Sehun said quietly, stepping forward until Baekhyun was peering up at him.

Baekhyun wanted to sink into the floor. “All of it…?” His voice was timid and mortified.

He blinked in surprise when Sehun’s lips curled into a small smile, like he was trying not to laugh. “The important parts, at least,” he chuckled, lifting one of Baekhyun’s sleeves with raised eyebrows. “Nice outfit.”

Baekhyun grinned, dramatically twirling around. “Thanks, it’s the latest fashion trend,” he stated, and Sehun couldn’t help but giggle. The sound washed over his mind, flooding his heart and working at the fingers of frustration clenched around his chest until he could breathe again. He loved that Sehun would smile like that for him, the boy with the seemingly blank face who actually had all these wonderful little ways of showing his unfiltered thoughts to the world.

He let out a small squeak as Sehun drew him into his arms, sighing softly when he felt the boy’s lips press to his forehead. The voice above him was muffled by his hair. “What were you doing?” he laughed softly, a small, affectionate sound. Sehun’s grip tightened around him, and he rested his forehead against the boy’s chest with a tiny thud.

The undertone of concern weighed on Baekhyun’s shoulders as he stood wrapped in Sehun’s arms—thin but strong, grounding him like an anchor. “Just modeling…” He smirked into the boy’s chest, but it faded quickly. “I’ve just been answering calls all day about performing tomorrow. No big deal.”

A beat of silence was punctured by the dull thud of Baekhyun’s heart against his ribs when he felt Sehun tense up around him, so brief that he honestly might have imagined it. “And what did you say?”

Baekhyun grinned then, eyes flicking up to meet Sehun’s tentative gaze. “Well, I told them I’m busy,” he mumbled into the crook of Sehun’s neck, pecking it gently. “But I thought you heard that part, right?” He laughed as Sehun’s lanky body contorted itself into strange shapes when his long fingers snuck up the boy’s sweater to tickle him, his breath catching in his throat as the sensation of soft stomach against his own skin for the first time skewered his train of thought.

Sehun whined, scrambling for Baekhyun’s wandering hands until he caught his wrists in a firm hold. “Okay, well I didn’t really want to admit I was eavesdropping…” he huffed, pursing his lips. Baekhyun watched the way his gaze fell to the floor, and when he spoke again, a note of hesitation tinged his words. “I also…didn’t want to get my hopes up…y’know, you coming over on Christmas Eve. It’s kind of a lot to ask for.”

“Nooo, it’s fine,” Baekhyun hummed, gently rocking Sehun’s arms from side to side. “I don’t care, no shows tomorrow. It’ll be just me and you, I promise.” His eyes brightened when he caught Sehun’s lips beginning to twitch into a smile. “Hey, Sehunnie, if I sing for anyone tomorrow it’ll be you, okay? I’ll be there.”

Sehun giggled at Baekhyun’s teasing singsong voice and sighed, tension escaping with his breath. “I know, but I feel kinda bad, y’know? I mean, this is your job and all. I dunno…” A hand combed through the back of his hair. “What if like, some super famous place wanted you. Like somewhere you’ve been wanting to play at your whole life that everyone wants to get into.”

Baekhyun shook his head dismissively. “Trust me, nowhere even close to that description called me today,” he laughed dryly. All the possible shows that were calling last minute were regular old cafés and bars, nowhere special would wait this late to book entertainment, would they? Of course there were places he would kill to get into, but Baekhyun decided against sharing this progression of ideas with Sehun. Hypothetical, impossible situations would only cause more damage than he’d already done, but he had to say something because he suddenly became aware of Sehun studying the way his face was working as he thought. “And they’d have to give me a shit ton of money for it too to make me miss this,” he teased, his fingers coursing with the shock of their touch as he skirted under Sehun’s sweater to rub at his hip.

A small puff of air escaped Baekhyun’s nose in relief when Sehun didn’t seem to acknowledge his brief hesitation and swatted at his hand, whining about how they were in public and something about being really handsy today. Baekhyun laughed, letting the sound drop his hands to his knees as he looked up at Sehun. “So, what are you doing here today?” he prodded mischievously, grinning as Sehun started fidgeting in his cute way that he probably thought was subtle.

“Umm, just doing some last minute Christmas shopping,” he stuttered, checking his phone suddenly. “Actually, I should go—”

“Is it for me?”

“Uhhh, ahaha, you’ll just have to find out!” Sehun grinned in an attempt to be smooth, and Baekhyun nodded knowingly.

“Ohh, I see,” he said gravely, grabbing his arm dramatically when Sehun punched it.

“Shut up,” Sehun muttered. “So…I’ll call you tomorrow or something?”

Baekhyun nodded, smiling with all his teeth. “Yep!” Then, quieter, “I can’t wait.” He knew that the pink that crept up Sehun’s cheeks as he smiled softly and walked off would stay in the back of his mind for the rest of the day. Baekhyun turned away only to run into what he presumed to be the manager of the store telling him very sternly to please remove and replace all merchandise (honestly he forgot he was still wearing the huge sweater) and to quickly leave the premises as soon as possible unless he would like to face mall security for unruly conduct. Scrambling out of the sweater almost as hurriedly as the apologies tumbled from his mouth, Baekhyun hastily left the store, suddenly remembering to run back and pick up the mug he’d seen earlier. The thought hung suspended in his mind when his phone buzzed in his pocket, feeling the aggravation from earlier tug at his shoulders as he dug through his coat. Blinking in exasperation, he halfheartedly glanced at the screen as he briskly walked through the crowd.

Baekhyun froze, not completely registering the fact that a few people bumped into him after the unexpected stop. The color drained from his face as he stared in disbelief at the name on the screen—a number he (and anyone else along his line of business, really) always had on file, but never used. He answered the phone with his heart in his throat. “H-hello?” he choked out.

Calm, important words and static.

“Oh, t-tomorrow, huh? Uh…well…I don’t…” Baekhyun stammered, unable to stop his lips from moving on their own, anything to fill the silence on the other end that was waiting for him. “I-I might have a prior…engagement…” The sentence died on his tongue. “I really do have no doubt the pay would be an amazing opportunity…well, I mean your whole place is…”

More calm, careful words.

Baekhyun was breathless. “Tomorrow night huh…”

His heart hammered in his chest as he hung up the phone.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was cross-posted from AFF. I'm working on cross-posting all my works to this site! I figured my Christmas AU would be an appropriate place to start~


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